Not a very distinguished Wordle score, as you will see below, but I surprised myself by getting both to and from supper on my own feet. The secret, I think, is a proper nap. I almost always have one in Drummond Place, however brief. The Ladies’ Semi-finals didn’t tempt me to wakefulness. Tomorrow will be more difficult.

And knitting progresses. The rows are so long that anything I do doesn’t sound like very much. I’m somewhere in the second quarter of the eighth row of this ridiculous patterned-every-row section at the end of the borders. Eighth of ten. I can now see what the pattern is doing — a spider’s web, offset on its next appearance. I still don’t like it.

Little else to report. Helen and David came to see me, bringing me some much-needed underwear, on their way to  Kirkmichael to clean up, as needed, after Fergus’ birthday party. An email from James says we are having a family quiz by Zoom on Sunday and I have got to think of  three questions.

Wordle: I scored five, and wasn’t the worst. That was Mark, with six. Four was the majority score. Rachel had three. And Roger blew us all out of the water with two.